


If You're Watching This, I'm Dead.

by CarvcrEdlund



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crowley is a Softie, Crowley is the original drama queen, Crowley's past, Good Omens References, Goodbye Video, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, headcanons galore, with GIFS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 16:59:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10995126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarvcrEdlund/pseuds/CarvcrEdlund
Summary: Crowley walked into that alternate dimension knowing one thing for certain: He wasn't coming back alive.It's a good thing that the King is always prepared foranyoccasion. He left something behind in that house, his own personal way of saying goodbye.[ ForSoo_Lazy, since I know how much she loves Crowley. <3 And since it's because of her that I even found this thing again. ]





	If You're Watching This, I'm Dead.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Soo_lazy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soo_lazy/gifts).



> Here's just a little something I wrote a while back, and have now updated and decided to post because it seems like an apt time to do so, in light of recent events. *cough* Season12FinaleHell *cough*
> 
> This is just the video recording of Crowley. I would have written Sam and Dean's reactions to finding it/putting it in the disc player, etc, but I already intend to write a 'funeral' fic (for Cass and Crowley) about the finale, so I'll just leave this the way it is for now. Enjoy! Or at least, try not to cry?

 

[play recording, Crowley is sitting at his desk. The room is empty, and he looks somewhat uncomfortable.]

Ah, right... So, if you’re watching this, either I’m dead, or you’re awfully good at getting ahold of things you’re not supposed to. In which case, I’ll probably kill you.

Anyways. Right about now, the world is going to hell. Well, not _hell_ exactly. I’d be happy if that were the case. But, the fact of the matter is, there’s a very good chance that I may not be around much longer.

I’m of the opinion that being underestimated is always an advantage, which is why I’ve never let anyone know my full story. And anyone who _has_ figured it out, is long dead by now. But, boys, if I die, I want you to know who I was. I want _someone_ to understand.

So, here goes.

[He coughs, hesitantly settling back in his chair]

Fergus Roderick Macleod was born on November 19th, 1661. But, he also died that night. With no one to help Rowena give birth, her child didn’t survive longer than a minute.

So, how am _I_ here, you ask? Well, I’m not Fergus Macleod. No, something else happened that night. Something that had the farmers gossiping about the gods for ages.

You see, an angel fell that night. A cherub, to be exact. His name was Cariel. Sounds familiar, hm? Whatever you’re thinking right now, you’re probably right. You remember Anna Milton? Well, she had to know how to fall from someone else, didn’t she?

Yes, I was an angel. I was the first to rip out my own grace. Let’s just say, I was close to a certain Archangel, and Naomi was starting to get a bit handsy.

[At this admission, Crowley lets out a sigh, his gaze straying from the camera.]

I spent too much time with the wrong people. You could say, I didn’t so much fall, as saunter vaguely downwards.

[He didn’t expect the Winchesters to get the reference, but it brought a smile to his face to bring it up. After all, who do you think that book was inspired by? Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett are a couple of his favorite humans.]

Enough of that, though.

I suppose I’ll never get her to admit it, but I think my mother knew I wasn’t entirely human. I’m sure all the times she set me on fire, or threw dangerous objects at me were her attempts at trying to get me to reveal what I really was.

Unfortunately, until about 300 years ago, even I didn’t know what I was.

Life was hard after she left me. But that isn’t to say it wasn’t hard before. The difference, was now _I_ had to find my scraps of food and ale to get through the day.

In some ways, it nearly killed me. In other ways, it saved my life.

You see, I was forced to slave away in a workhouse, with about fifty other children. And everyone knew me as ‘the witch’s devil spawn’. You could say I didn’t have many friends.

But, there was one person. She joined us when I was about nine and a half. Her name was Aya Francisca O’Donell. She was probably the most annoying woman I ever met.

[Contrasting his words, the demon was smiling fondly.]

She never shut up. Every day, she’d seek me out and ask me all sorts of questions. Everything from why clouds rain to how magic works. And then, one day, she asked if she could go home with me to have dinner.

I’ll never forget how she asked, either. “Good God, Gus! Here I am, talking to you day after day, and you still haven’t asked me to walk home with you. I don’t know whether to love you more for respecting me as an independent woman, or clock you for being so thick-skulled!”

She was something else, Aya.

Unfortunately, I had to explain to her that I didn’t have a home. Or a family.

But even that didn't deter her. Honestly. I doubt anything anyone said could slow her down.

That night, she dragged me home with her. She made me jump in the river to clean myself off before I met her family. I still believe, to this day, that was the best night of my life. A meal has never satisfied me more, and I’ve never smiled so much, except, perhaps, on our wedding night.

I was fifteen, she was sixteen. Aya and I were inseparable, ever since that night she took me home, and gave me a place to sleep. I never left her side, and she never left mine. In sickness and in health, till death did we part.

[Here, he looks down sadly before continuing.]

Her father taught me his trade, and I became a rather successful tailor. We were happy, once my business took off and we moved into our own place. It was good.

I…

I was unable to conceive children. I’d been… injured.

[The king seemed extremely uncomfortable at this thought.]

As I said, I had a rough childhood. But Aya never blamed me. She always said that at least we’d be free to travel. But she always looked so sad.

[And here, he scrubbed his face with both hands, as if the next words physically pained him.]

I did something stupid. I… found one of the books that my mother had left behind. I wanted a child with her, _so_ badly. So I turned to magic for the answer.

In specific, Demon magic.

The nearest crossroads was out of town, so I set out, and told Aya I’d be home the next day.

I summoned a demon. Lilith, to be precise. She took a liking to me, and now I know why. She could see what I was.

We made a deal. She ‘fixed’ me, and gave me an extra three inches to boot, and, she let me have twenty years, so that I wouldn’t be leaving my son or daughter before they were all grown up. That was 1703.

But, You’ve heard of Murphy’s law, I’m sure.

I was gone overnight, it shouldn’t have been a big deal. I stopped to get some cloth so Aya wouldn’t suspect anything about this trip in particular. I never wanted her to know. I was going to tell her that our prayers had been answered.

As it was, I never got to the chance to.

While I was gone, our house was attacked. Some man came in and stole all my finest work. But not only that, he…

[And here, despite his lack of humanity, he choked up in a mixture of anger and deep, deep sorrow.]

He took my wife to bed. He forced himself on her.

If I’d _been_ there…

[The king of Hell shut his eyes to calm himself briefly.]

She… was hurt. She wouldn’t say anything, for the longest time.

It… wasn’t easy on her. The pregnancy only made it worse. I had to make her eat, sometimes. I think she was trying to starve the baby, but it was only hurting her more.

Aya didn’t make it. She... died shortly after Gavin was born.

[Crowley pulled a hand down his face, leaving it covering his mouth. He was silent for a minute or so.]

... I... was a wreck. I lost everything I really cared about in one fell swoop. I lost Aya, My shop, and even my soul.

I became a drunk, and though I tried very hard at first not to blame Gavin, I ended up beating him too, in my drunken fits.

When the time came to collect my soul, Lilith hardly even needed to. I would have gone down no matter what.

But that day, Lilith took me down personally. She unlocked my memories, as well.

She didn’t need to torture me. She did, but she couldn’t have ruined me more than my memories did. Only she and I ever knew what I was.

When I realized who I was, and just where exactly I’d ended up, it damn near drove me mad. I was an angel! I should have gone to heaven!

But it seems fate had chosen a different path for me.

I was a mess, and honestly, I was tempted to just off myself on many occasions. Lilith never let me. She took me apart, and she pieced me back together (literally, sometimes). It wasn’t long before I became her right-hand man. Once I accepted what I was, I was capable of a great many things. I became her secret weapon, her personal pet fallen angel.

She trained me, and I became a being of power on-par with the Knights. And I loved it. Every second of it.

[And here, he brightened a bit; that familiar gleam in his eye now present. The king straightened up in his seat, then leaned back with his hands clasped in front of him on the desk.]

You know, burning Fergus’ bones won’t kill me. He was only my vessel. I just decided to let you boys have your win, for trying so hard. I can appreciate decent work when I see it.

[He looked way too smug, and he reached a hand towards his neck, hooking a finger under a leather cord he had there. He gently tugged it out, revealing a small, corked crystal vial that gently glowed.]

Now this? This might kill me. Honestly, I've no idea what it may or may not do. And I don’t particularly care to find out.

If you’re wondering what exactly _this_ is, I’ll tell you. I found it among the marine life off the coast of Canisbay.

The grace of the Angel Cariel. Or, what’s left of it, anyways. A century making a bay in Scotland actually produce anything really tuckered the sucker out.

I would have gladly let it stay there until it was all gone, but Lilith was one curious bugger. It got to the point where I was sure she’d go and find it for me if I didn’t go get it myself. Lord knows what _she_ would have done with it.

[He tucks the little vial back into his shirt, where the glow isn’t even visible beneath his black suit and tie.]

You know the rest, I’m sure. Things were relatively quiet, until you knuckleheads started the apocalypse. I was… a bit _attached_ to Lilith, and I wanted no part in her death. She kept me… ‘busy’, so I couldn’t interfere.

But when she died, There was no one left to stop me. I wanted Lucifer _gone._ I knew that he’d turn on the demons as soon as he’d finished with Humanity, yes. But it was mainly a personal grudge. Because of him, _my_ Lilith was dead. Because of him, I was forced to run from Heaven. And sending his minions to burn my house and eat my tailor was the last straw.

So, I took you two morons under my metaphorical wing. And I must say; these past… seven years, has it been already? Are by far the most entertaining ones I’ve had. I don't regret a single minute of it. Of any of it.

And, if I’m dead now, and I didn’t get to tell you before, I just wanted to thank you. It’s been one hell of a ride we’ve had. We’ve had our ups and downs, but I enjoyed it all. Even the chained-up bit.

[Here, he winks, in an attempt to relieve some of the seriousness. It doesn't last long however, before he's leaning forward, making it abundantly clear that he's no longer in the mood for jokes.]

However. If you’re _not_ Sam, Dean, and/or Castiel, and I’m _not_ dead right now…

[He scowls, his eyes flashing red.]

You best watch your back.

[The screen cuts to black.]

 


End file.
